Of Love, Loss & Lyrium
by crashbangwallop
Summary: A collection of one-shots based around F!Hawke, Fenris & the rest of the DAII party. Definate game spoilers. Lots of drama, lots of mushy stuff, lots of angst. May progress into more adult areas later on, at which point the rating will change.
1. The Weight of the Rain

**Title: **The Weight of the Rain.

**Rating:** K.

**Genre: **Alot of guilt, a bit of forgiveness, a dash of angst.

**Length: **1, 700.

**Disclaimer:** I love Bioware & occasionally I use their characters to act out scenarios in my brain.

**A/N: **This is the start of what I hope will be a series of Dragon Age (specifically, Fenris) related one-shots that have been stirring inside my brain for some time. Expect lots of angst, lots of drama & perhaps, should I feel upto it, the teeniest smidgen of smut.** Please be aware guys & gals - here be spoilers.**

This particular story is set a week or two after the party have finished the Night Terrors quest in the Fade. Hawke & Fenris got it on ages ago &, of course, he left. He likes to beat himself up over it.

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><p>This was wrong.<p>

Heavy rain thundered from the clouds, spattering Fenris' back in cold water & making his armour feel heavier than usual. His hair was sopping wet, forcing the elf to shake his head every few seconds in order to see beyond his curtain of thick, white mane. With a growl of exertion, he swung his greatsword in a wide arc, cutting through an approaching enemy as if the man were made of butter.

More bodies of the recently deceased lay scattered at Fenris' frozen feet (most of them in more than one piece). Any pools of blood that had begun to blossom were quickly absorbed by the already sodden sand, leaving dark splashes of colour across the wounded coast.

This particular fight had been far too messy & had taken far too long. The familiar sense of camaraderie & cohesion in battle that Fenris & his – dare he say it?_ Friends_ – had come to rely on over the years had been shattered; lost because of what happened during their first (& what the elf also hoped was his last) trip to the Fade.

He instinctively looked upward when a belt of thunder rumbled from over the sea. The dark waves crashed violently onto nearby rocks, spraying the elf & his party with saltwater. Fenris growled & thrust his sword downward into the thick, soggy sand, which held the blade in place as he ran one gauntled hand over his forehead in an attempt to clear his flooded vision.

Even during battle, when he could move impulsively & without conscious thought, Fenris was continually torturing himself. Swordplay was much like therapy for the elf; it was satisfying to swing & thrust his enormous blade; felling the faceless bodies around him whilst turning in slow circles. Every movement of his limbs, every shift of his muscles; it was all purely instinctual. But now he was distracted & tormenting himself by re-playing those moments in the Fade over & over again. He could still hear the desire demon's whisper in his ear & see the glorious, tainted images she had put in his mind. A wave of sickness passed over the elf as he involuntarily recalled the very moment when he did the one thing he had always promised himself he would never do - the same thing that a countless number of those that he abhorred had done to him. He wished with bitter regret that he could pull the words out of the air & bury them back inside his body, to be able to reverse everything to a point where he hadn't thrown away the loyalty of a woman he come to revere.

Lost in his painful thoughts, Fenris' gaze moved over to Varric, who nodded back to him as he holstered Bianca. The expression on the dwarves' face made it clear that he felt the same sense of unease & shame that Fenris did (though the elf was quite certain that there was no one on this beach that loathed themselves more than he right now). Their guilty thoughts were clearly following the same path, as both men turned almost simultaneously to look at Hawke.

She was fifty feet further up the beach, locked in battle with one of the few remaining mercenaries left. Hawke spun her staff over her head & across her back faster than Fenris could follow – the intense magic she crafted making her glow brightly against the blackened sky.

The elf watched as she twirled gracefully between the mercenaries' much slower & obviously rather bewildered movements. He moved to strike but Hawke elegantly twisted out of his way & continued to dance in circles, occasionally unleashing a fireball from her palm that would engulf one of the poor man's limbs in smoke & flame.

If it weren't for the present situation, Fenris could have almost felt sorry for Hawke's target – the mage was known amongst their party for occasionally toying with her folly before moving for an easy kill, especially if she were in a good mood.

Hawke suddenly ducked beneath the mercenaries' swooping axe & let out a powerful cry, bringing her staff up to meet the side of her target's head with a sickening crunch. The expression on her face was not that of a child playing with it's food – to the elf, it was the look of a frustrated, anguished woman who had been selfishly betrayed by those who loved her most.

The man's knees instantly buckled, crimson blood splashing across Hawke's hands. The mage watched her folly as he hit the wet sand with a thump, her chest heaving. The expression she bore was hard & set, though Fenris noted that her eyes seemed distant & unfocused.

The elf swallowed a lungful of salty air & tightened his fists. The shame inside him was tantamount to physical pain. It was he that had put that haunted look on her face; those rings under her eyes, the clenching of her jaw, that mournful howl of anguish that escaped her lips as she pummelled enemies with her staff; it was all _his_ fault.

His reverie was suddenly broken by a sudden, sharp stab of pain across one shoulder. Hissing loudly, Fenris instinctively turned on his heel & coughed as he was met by a plume of purple smoke masking a shaded form, the constant rain making the figure harder to see.

A rusty blade was thrust just beneath the elf's iron spaulders, the owner's gloved hand still gripping the weapon's hilt. Fenris snarled loudly at the assassin, clasping his own gauntlet over the dagger's handle, though the rain made his grip unsteady. He pushed with all of his strength, forcing the blade out of & away from his body as the elf's lyrium brands blazed blue with pain & indignation. The assassin stumbled under Fenris' burst of might & fell backward into the soft, wet sand.

The elf squinted downward at the man, trails of rainwater marking their path across his face, & pushed one hand to his open wound in order to stem the bloodflow. Without warning, the sound of a rushing arrow whipped at the side of Fenris' ear & less than a second later, the bolt was lodged firmly between the assassin's eyes.

"Watch your back, broody," Varric called across the wind, slipping Bianca behind his back.

"Fenris?" Hawke appeared from behind, her hands glowing gold with healing magic as she held them to the wound.

"Thankyou," He managed, squinting uncomfortably as the mage pressed her palms to the rips in his armour.

She didn't respond but Fenris could feel her gaze upon his face. He stared down at the raindrops spattering on the assassin's lifeless body.

"It's not like you to be so easily caught off guard," She ventured after a moment of silent regard.

The relentless storm gave another crash of thunder. Fenris said nothing & continued to look away. He hated it when she tried to speak as if everything was the same between them, as if he hadn't turned his back on her for his own selfish desires. He shut his eyes & tried to concentrate on the warmth caressing his closing wound, though he immediately felt guilty for enjoying the sensation of having her hands on his body. He realised this was the first time he'd had any physical contact with Hawke since the night they had shared together almost a year ago. His eyes opened & involuntarily flickered to her face, which was studied in concentration at his injury.

Hawke glanced back at him & their eyes locked for a moment. Her dark, wet hair was stuck to the sides of her face & a wan smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. A dull, aching want rose in Fenris' stomach & he turned his head away in shame.

"We haven't really had a chance to speak since Fenyriel left for the Circle," She began, her fingers gently smoothing over his bloodied skin.

Why was she doing this? Was she probing him for an apology, an admission of his guilt? Fenris thought it obvious that the anger & disgrace that plagued him every day was plain enough for everyone to see. She must know the grief that was written across his face each time he looked upon her. Wasn't it enough?

"There is nothing to be said," He responded darkly, shivering a little when the magic's warmth spread down his side.

"On the contrary, I think there is much to be said."

Hawke removed her hands, the golden glow fading from her fingertips, & the elf felt a twinge of regret that she had finished healing him.

The mage moved to stand before Fenris, her boots quietly padding in the sodden sand. She lowered her head a little so that they were level & he saw rain trace marks across her wet cheeks.

"It doesn't have to be like this," She murmured, a determined frown across her face, "You have burdened yourself with a needless guilt."

The elf blinked back at her in disbelief, "Needless? You think my guilt is without cause? Hawke, I betrayed you to a demon!"

"I am a mage," She replied, & Fenris saw her eyes harden, "I know better than anyone what lurks in the Fade - what promises are offered with little asked in return," Her mask of confidence slipped briefly then, & the elf caught a a note of sadness in her voice, "I will not pretend that your decision didn't hurt me..."

Hawke sighed & Fenris saw the conflict etched across her features. He itched to walk away from her, to leave her with those that were worthy of her company. He clenched his jaw & remained still, knowing he could never turn his back unless she requested it of him.

"I understand the magic she would have used on you," Hawke confirmed, her eyes wide with sincerity. The elf found it hard to look at her. "I know the strength of a demon's influence."

A streak of lightning clattered above their heads & illuminated the conviction on Hawke's face. Even if she could no longer trust the elf, Fenris knew that he could always take assurance from her. The determination with which she spoke to him eased his temper.

"I would like things to return to as they were," She added a little more nervously & her gaze fell to the sand, "I have missed the ease of our conversation &... The comfort I take from your company."

Before he was able to respond, Hawke had turned her back & was marching back down the coast. Fenris saw Varric give a curious grin over his shoulder before following suit across the sand.

The elf paused & wiped water from his face. What he had done; he knew that it was unforgivable. But Hawke was definitely worth any time or effort Fenris may spend trying to repay her, & the elf knew that he had a lot of time on his hands.

Maybe he could make this right.


	2. A Cold Conclusion

**Title: **A Cold Conclusion.

**Rating:** K.

**Genre: **Anger & shame.

**Length: **1, 300.

**Disclaimer:** I love Bioware & occasionally I use their characters to act out scenarios in my brain.

**A/N: **I enjoy writing Fenris angry far too much. I promise I will try harder to do something smushy. Please R/R!** Please be aware guys & gals - here be spoilers.**

This story is set somewhere in Act 2 – after Fenris has left Hawke after their night together. She has begun to move on with another, & the elf is NOT happy about it.

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><p>Warmth flooded through his frozen veins &amp; Fenris felt the numbness in his fingertips immediately begin to subside, though he took little comfort from it. He crossed the threshold to the Amell estate in one long stride, purposefully allowing the wind to catch the grand front doors &amp; was satisfied to hear them slam behind him. The elf shuddered slightly as he lowered his hood, a few rogue snowflakes falling from his hair. He tried to ignore the soothing heat – he was not here simply to take refuge from the weather.<p>

Fenris tightly clenched his jaw, annoyed that the lobby seemed to be deserted. He had been hoping to confront Hawke within the first few moments of him trespassing uninvited on her property – his anger was seething under his skin & demanding to be let out. Instead, it looked as if he would have to search for her first.

He had questioned himself many times whilst stalking to her front door – clearly some remnant of his common sense was still lurking in the back of his head, reprimanding him for being so foolish. He knew that Hawke was a free woman & she was able to do as she pleased. Anyone could tell that this was none of the elf's business & that he was unwise to think that she would even care for Fenris' opinions after he'd walked out on her so many nights ago. But he didn't care. Any rational thoughts that passed were soon gone; silenced by a deafening anger that was ringing in his ears.

Isabella's feline grin was never far from his mind's eye, & he could still hear the words she purred softly at his cheek.

_She's with Anders, of course; practically inseparable, those two. She's always telling me tales of what they get up to when they're alone. Honestly, it's enough to make a pirate whore blush._

Before she had even finished, Fenris had bolted from his seat beside her at the Hanged Man. Sweeping his cloak around his neck; the elf had disappeared into the streets like a shadow, desperate to stop Hawke before she was able to do something the elf would regret.

Bile rose in his throat. He treaded lightly through the hallway & into the parlour, involuntarily balling his fists. The room was unlit save for a fire that cackled softly in the hearth & it's orange light cast long shadows across the room. Even though he had barely made a sound, the elf saw a shadow stir from the opposite end of the fireplace & turn in his direction.

It was Hawke. She looked to be slouched over her writing desk. Jerking upright at the sound of an intruder, she relaxed on realising it was him in the doorway. Rising slowly, Hawke pushed the chair back under the table & turned to face him. As the elf's eyes adjusted to the dim light, he saw she wore a rather startled expression.

"Fenris?"

"Is he here?" He demanded abruptly, glancing around the room in an attempt to answer his own question.

Hawke's brow furrowed, "Is who here?"

Fenris fumed, impulsively taking a few aggressive steps toward her. He managed to keep his voice level & calm, albeit slightly strained, "Don't insult me, Hawke."

She fixed him with a self-assured gaze, obviously now aware of the elf's rising temper," I have no idea what you're talking about."

Her defiance was intolerable. Fenris growled angrily & his lyrium brands suddenly blazed, bathing them both in an eerie blue glow.

He snarled at her. "The abomination! The apostate! I know he's here!"

Without pausing to hear a response, he suddenly began to prowl the room, heading for the door that he knew led to Hawke's bedroom. Shoving with his bare foot, Fenris almost separated the hinges from their frames. He stopped abruptly. The only face that greeted him was that of Ben – Hawke's pet mabari. His blue-burning scars diminished like someone blowing out a candle.

Hawke approached from behind & stood with her arms crossed.

"Fenris." She said his name with a sigh & the elf imagined there was a hint of sorrow in her tone, "What are you doing here?"

His shoulders loosened a little & he stared ashamedly at the floor, feeling the anger drain, replaced with a flood of remorse.

"Festis bei umo canavarum," He muttered darkly in Tevinter, knowing that she would not be able to understand. He found it so much easier to say things to her when she wasn't able to comprehend the meaning, though he longed to say what he wanted in a language that she spoke. Their home tongue never seemed good enough; he could never summon the words that she deserved. Surely Hawke already knew how much she meant to him? Did she not notice his proud smile whenever her daggers felled a slaver? Could she not see how he always looked upon her with affection & reverence? Did she really need him to spell out how she consumed his every waking thought & his every moonlit dream?

Hawke sidestepped through the doorframe & stood before him, looking solemn.

"You can't do this to yourself."

He remained solid & wooden, his gaze directed at her boots. Anders was not here, but that did not mean he was _never _here. Fenris knew he visited often & stole Hawke's kisses in the night. Isabella was a backstabber, a gossip & a thief – but she was not a liar.

Finally, he looked up into her bright blue eyes, "He is not good enough for you."

Hawke sneered at him, "And you are, I take it?"

Fenris shook his head, frustrated, "No."

A sadness crept over Hawke's features, though her stare was hard & her jaw was set. "Then what am I supposed to do? Wait around for you to change your mind? Cry myself to sleep wishing you saw me how I saw you?"

She shook her head & raised one hand to her forehead. A charged silence fell onto the pair. Hawke's ragged breathing betrayed how much emotion was spilling to the surface. After a moment, the words she seemed to be struggling for came unbidden to her lips, "You _left_, Fenris."

He tensed at her words, feeling as if someone had slipped a cold blade under his armour & pierced straight through his chest. She was right, of course. He _had _left. After spending a single, glorious night in her bed & promising her the world, he had balked. He was a coward & it had cost him dearly.

He braved a glance upward & saw her looking back at him – her expression fixed & solemn. He didn't know how better to explain this to her; a simple apology seemed so lame in comparison to his guilt.

He opened his mouth to speak, "I…" _Can't do this without you. Need you. Love you. _

Fenris screwed up his eyes, frustrated at his own lack of coherency.

"I… I think I'd better leave," He finally muttered miserably, already knowing that he was defeated.

Hawke stepped aside, though she stiffened as he passed her & out of the corner of his eye he thought he saw one of her hands move to touch his arm before falling back limply at her side. He pulled his hood back around his face as he approached the lobby.

"Fenris." It was just a whisper, barely audible over the crackling of the fire, but it was enough to make the elf turn on the spot.

Even from across the room, he could see tears beginning to glisten in her eyes.

"Don't go."

Fenris swallowed hard, a tightness forming in his gut. He never thought it possible to disobey anything Hawke commanded of him, though he found himself turning back to the exit & resting a hand on the knob.

"I cannot stay," He murmured before swinging open the door – his cloak instantly flapping in the harsh, cold wind. Wrapping his arms about himself, Fenris took a step forward & re-entered the icy streets of Hightown.

He didn't look back as the front doors to the Amell Estate closed at his heel.


End file.
